A Vision of Fire

The woman watched as Maanik disappeared behind the shining glass of the terrace door. Then she continued rearranging the furniture, in case Maanik missed the fresh air and chose to return.

From inside, Jack London howled. Hansa dropped the chair she was moving and ran toward Maanik’s bedroom. The girl was still in the hallway, blocked by the barking dog, who, facing the open bedroom door, was making short, tentative bounds forward, then skittering backward as if trying both to attack the entry and avoid it.

“Jack London, quiet!” Hansa yelled.

He partly obeyed, his yelps becoming low growls. Hansa turned toward her daughter.

“No!” she cried.

Maanik’s left arm had stiffened and her right hand had extended.

“Maanik, stay with me,” she implored.

The dog began to bark again.

“Quiet!” Hansa yelled.

Kamala arrived, roused by the commotion.

“Take him away!” Hansa snapped.

Kamala edged around them, reaching for the beagle. Maanik made a swift, sweeping motion with her right hand in the air and without being touched, Jack London flew across the floor and hit the wall to their right. His howling turned into tiny frightened yips and he cowered low by the wall where he’d been thrown.

“Maanik!” Hansa grabbed at her daughter’s left shoulder and spun her around.

Maanik’s eyes were shut, her expression relaxed. She slipped from her mother’s grip, heading toward the bedroom door.

“Don’t go in there!” Hansa shrieked, and tried to pull her back, tried to turn her to face away from the bedroom. Maanik stiffened and shook her off. Hansa gasped as blood dripped down her daughter’s wrists and along her fingers, even though her arms were still bandaged under her coat. Maanik’s eyes opened and she began walking backward, lifting her hands and rubbing her forearms as she gazed stonily at her mother. Hansa followed her into the bedroom, reaching toward her child’s ear, but Maanik jerked away.

“Stop!” Hansa cried, and again reached for Maanik’s ear.

“You cannot take me back,” Maanik said.

“From where? Please talk to me!”

“When she burns, I burn,” Maanik said. “I have to go so it will stop.”

“Go where?” Hansa pleaded. She was trying to think like Dr. O’Hara, trying to get information.

“Up,” Maanik said. “That is the only escape.”

“Up where?” Hansa asked, trembling as they moved farther into the foul air of the bedroom.

“Beyond… fera-cazh.”

“Where… what is ‘fera-cazh’?”

Maanik’s answer was a full-throated scream followed by the ritual clawing at her arms. Hansa tried to hug her but once again Maanik twisted out of reach, backing against the bed. Making a concerted effort to reach her ear, Hansa practically yanked her daughter’s arm to her side—and was thrown back. Staggering, she saw a plume of smoke rising from the bed. Hansa circled, frantic, and only then saw that it was coming not from the bed but from the bottom of Maanik’s nightdress, under her coat. With a hiss, another plume rose from near one of the girl’s pockets. Maanik’s hair was lifting into the air, rising not unlike the smoke trails—and Hansa realized she smelled burning hair. She violently slapped her daughter’s hands aside, plunged her fingers toward Maanik’s ear, and shouted, “Blackberries!”

Maanik wobbled on her feet but did not stop screaming or slapping at her arms. “Let—me—burn!” she choked out, before the seeming anguish of physical pain took over her voice again and she wailed.

Smoke rose from Maanik’s left hand as a black spot spread across her skin. Hansa was trying to reach for it when suddenly Maanik spun and ran for the tall bedroom window. She slammed up the latch, flung open the sash, and with her bare hands struck and clawed at the screen beyond in an effort to shred it. Hansa shouted at her, grabbed at her, and struggled to keep a hold on her, but she didn’t stop. Maanik punctured the black mesh and pulled at the ragged hole with both hands, making a large opening. Hansa screamed for Kamala’s help as five black patches opened on the back of Maanik’s coat, smoke coiling toward the ceiling. Then just as suddenly, Maanik thrust her hand onto the upper frame of the window and, searching with her foot for the lower frame, hoisted herself up.